And Destiny Calls
by believeindreamers
Summary: This is the first fic I've done like this, so reviews will be crucial. *hint, hint* It's about the end of the wizarding world as the famous trio knows it, and what their final fates will be.
1. Default Chapter Title

This is kind of an odd fic for me, but I had to write it, you know? Inspiration took over, and I'm not gonna re-read what I've written to revise it, so if ya hate it, blame inspiration.  
  
  
  
"Why did I do it?" I whispered, hating myself for what I'd done, and yet knowing without a shadow of a doubt that, given the same situation, I'd still do the exact same thing.  
  
My weakness was undeniable, my fears those of a trapped animal. But I lacked the strength--no, that wasn't it. I didn't lack the strength, I lacked the will. I was not the person I had been, that was one of the few things I knew for certain. Voldemort had made sure of that.  
  
Because the monster my friends and I called Voldemort was the reason I had betrayed everything I used to hold dear. Hermione - gone. Ron - worse than gone. There had been a time when I still had the will to fight, the will to do what I knew was right. But those days were gone, never to return.  
  
Voldemort had captured me, that was true, and subjected me to the worst torture he knew how to inflict. It was not pain, though, that had broken me. It was fear. Yes. I did not fear Voldemort for who he was. I feared myself.  
  
I was not the person I thought I was. I had believed everything he had told me. I was a fool.   
  
Dumbledore had fallen early in this war. I had been barely nineteen when the person I needed with me more than anything had left, never to return. Ron had turned on us shortly after that. Hermione was dead. I didn't know how, or why, but the certainty of it was astonishing. Ginny had gone into hiding, and since she was a pureblood, and not actively fighting, Voldemort had left her in peace. Neville had escaped too, to where I didn't know.  
  
But it was me, the famous Harry Potter, that had been the downfall of our world. Voldemort had captured me two years ago, soon after my twenty-first birthday. I had stood up to him for weeks, I comforted myself with that thought. Yet Voldemort had won, and it was through me that he found the knowledge he needed to conquer the world I had once held dear.   
  
I had known too much, been trusted with too much. And even I had never known or realized the insecurities that made me such a sickeningly easy target. I had fallen, and the world had fallen with me. If I had held up longer, if I had fought him. . .   
  
Even I knew that with me gone, the others had lacked the hope they'd treasured for so long. If I could fall, why were they immune to the Dark Side's irresistible power?  
  
For I had finally turned to the Darkness I had fought for so long. It had taken Voldemort's Imperius Curse to give me the excuse I needed, but I could have fought it. I could have . . .  
  
I could have done more. That was it. That was the image that haunted my nightmares. I could have fought, I could have refused to surrender to the Darkness that sought to control me. I could have found the strength to beat him.  
  
I had not. I had surrendered to Voldemort, and now that retribution was impossible, why not sink deeper into Darkness? Why not cease hurting myself like this, why not stop inflicting on myself a torture that was beyond even Voldemort's terrible powers?  
  
Why not forgive the one thing that could not be changed?  
  
Because for me forgiveness was impossible. I had lacked the strength, and because of my weakness, my world had fallen to the control of the person Lily Potter had died to protect me from.   
  
I had the will, now, to finish what my parents had started so long ago. I had the will to fight him, and he would fall. I would die as well, I knew that, but that no longer mattered. Nothing mattered.  
  
Nothing save doing what I had to, what destiny itself had demanded from me. I remembered suddenly a line from a song Hermione had sung often.   
  
'When destiny calls you, you must be strong I may not be with you, but you got to hold on.'  
  
Yes. They're with me, and I'll hold on long enough to let destiny had its way. To let myself fulfill a prophecy as old as time itself, when Light will forever conquer Darkness, when love will forever conquer hatred. When a single soul can save a world too many have forsaken.  
  
And destiny calls. . . .  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

  
  
  
I stood there, waiting patiently. I was not eager to face the Dark Lord, I still feared his powers, there was no denying that. But this time, I had the will to fight, the will to fulfill a prophecy that only I understood.   
  
I twirled my wand idly between my fingers, watching the scarlet sparks fly from the end of it. I found it rather amusing that, in a world I no longer understood, some things always stayed the same. I was a Gryffindor through and through, and I concentrated on that thought, on preparing myself for the inevitable.  
  
Voldemort suddenly stepped through the door. I studied him carefully. He looked extremely pleased with himself, and I automatically tensed. He only looked that pleased with himself when he'd thought up something particularly unpleasant to do to me.  
  
"Well, my faithful friend," he purred, "I have found your precious Ginny. Have you got any final words for her?" I thanked my lucky stars that I had become extremely good at concealing my emotions, because I would've been dead before I could say 'Voldemort' if I'd made any indication of the anger that threatened to overwhelm my self-control.  
  
"Yes, master," I replied in a language only he and I could understand. The language of serpents, Parseltongue. "I would like to let her understand how foolish she was, to resist the most powerful wizard in our world." I despised calling him that, but there was no other way, even though I had absolutely no intention of letting him hurt Ginny. I'd already lost the rest of my friends; I refused to lose her, too.  
  
I stepped out the door, to see Ginny standing just outside. I was filled with rage when I saw the dementors with her; when I saw how pale she was. Casually, I waved my wand and called up a Patronus to chase away the dementors. Ginny almost collapsed, and I caught her before she fell. She quickly recovered, and pulled away from me, and it hurt to see the expression of utter betrayal on her face.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Voldemort demanded, not bothering to say it in Parseltongue. "I wanted the dementors here."  
  
"I have enough to deal with as it is," I said coldly. "And I daresay that seeing me and having to face the reality that I have forever turned my back on the Light Side will do more to her than any number of dementors."  
  
Voldemort nodded in grudging approval, then stepped toward Ginny, pulling out his wand. I was running out of time, but I didn't want to do it just yet. He was too tense, too ready for my attack now.   
  
"Allow me to take care of her?" I said, raising my voice and making it a question. He hesitated, then grinned.   
  
"Yes," he mused, "that would be best. I want to watch, though. I'm afraid you might go soft on us, since she was your girlfriend at one point."  
  
"Before I found a better master to serve," I said absentmindedly, surveying the various bruises on her face with mounting fury. I would kill that dirty scum if it was the last thing I did. Which, I reflected, it probably would be.  
  
"So, Ginny, have you made your choice? Will you join us, or will you stay true to the. . losing side?" The sound of my own voice shocked me. I sounded evil, and in that moment I hated myself for the weakness that had let Voldemort conquer me so easily.  
  
"I'm staying true to the Harry I knew," she said, and her voice shook a little. I put my hand under her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet my emerald gaze.  
  
"But I am the Harry you knew," I said softly, and for a moment hope flickered in her blue eyes, then faded.  
  
"No," she whispered, and I let her look away. "You're not the Harry I knew. You're just taunting me, and I won't let you."  
  
"I'm afraid you have much choice in the matter," Voldemort snickered, coming forward. "Does she, Harry?" he asked, turning his red eyes on me.  
  
"Of course not, Tom," I said. Voldemort hated being called by his real name, and I was the only one who got to call him that. It was a dangerous test, but I had to know if he really trusted me, if he really had his guard down, no matter the risk.  
  
"Glad to hear that you agree with me on the subject," he said, smiling that evil little smile I hated so much. Well, at least I knew he had his guard down. Now, just wait to the perfect moment to strike . . .  
  
"Tom," I said, and he looked over at me. "Stupefy!" He collapsed to the floor, looking completely shocked. I grabbed Ginny's hand and ran. Thankfully, I knew where I had to get to. This place, namely Voldemort's stronghold, was protected by anti-apparition wards. Except for one place, which was where I was headed.   
  
"Lord Voldemort's been attacked," I yelled at Lucius Malfoy. He stared at me, completely stunned. Then he looked suspicious.  
  
"Then why are you taking her with you?" he said warily. I rolled my eyes, trying my best to act like I thought Voldemort would.  
  
"I'm taking her with me because I think the people who attacked the master are after her! They want to rescue her, and I won't let them do it!" I narrowed my eyes and scowled at him. "And the next time I hear you question my orders, you're going to be the prisoner, Lucius." That seemed to convince him, and he bolted downstairs, to find Voldemort.  
  
I fled upstairs, and heard the one voice I'd hoped not to. Voldemort. I spun around to face him, pushing Ginny behind me. No matter what, I couldn't let him hurt her. I wasn't sure why I thought I could protect her; I had been the one to turn on her two years ago. But destiny demanded a sacrifice, and it would not be Ginny. It would be me.  
  
"So, you have picked the losing side, Potter," Voldemort sneered. I didn't respond. I would not give him that satisfaction. He had ruled my life from the time I was a year old; he would not have that control over me now.   
  
"I should have realized. No Gryffindor has ever gone over to the Dark Side. But the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, and I had my hopes." He sighed, then pulled out his own wand. "But those hopes were unfounded. Oh well. Good-bye Potter!"  
  
I fired my spell at the exact same moment he did. The wands connected, and memories of the disastrous ending of the Triwizard Tournament came unbidden to my mind. But this time I was ready. This time I would not run from this. This would be the final battle, winner take all.  
  
I wrenched my wand away from Voldemort's, and the cage of light died instantly. I was glad it had. Because if I had allowed the process to continue, I knew phoenix song would surround us, and I was not ready for that yet. Because I would forever connect phoenix song with Fawkes and Dumbledore, and Dumbledore's death was a wound that, for me, would never heal.  
  
"Stupefy!" I yelled, and Voldemort blocked it easily, and fired back a curse of his own. We continued that way from several minutes, for although either of us could--with some luck--use the Avada Kedavra Curse and end this thing now, neither of us wanted to. For Voldemort, it was the simple wish to make me pay for my betrayal. For me, it was that some small part of me that I thought Voldemort had destroyed forever was asking me whether it would be right, and I didn't have an answer. But I had no other choice.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" I roared. There was brilliant flash of light, and I didn't wait to see more than that. I seized Ginny's hand and bolted for the apparition point. I was out of time, and when we were pursued, I realized I was also out of luck.   
  
"Ginny," I said, so softly that Voldemort's supporters could not hear my instructions, "go to the north tower, it's just up that flight of steps. You can apparate from there."  
  
"What about you?" she demanded.  
  
"Oh, I'll be a bit preoccupied," I answered. If I played my cards right, Ginny would have time to get away before Voldemort's followers could take me down. If I was really lucky I might even get out of there in one piece, but I wasn't counting on that. Some people had told me I was a pessimist, and although I had always considered myself a realist, at the moment there didn't seem to be a lot of difference between the two.   
  
"So, who wants to get trounced first?" I called out.   
"We outnumber him ten to one!" I heard Lucius yelling. "Get him!" But by contrast, they didn't seem all that eager to 'get me.'   
  
"Well, Lucius, if you're so eager to get me why don't you come do it yourself?" I scoffed. "Apparently cowardice runs in the family, doesn't it?" In a blind rage, he took a swipe at me. I dodged easily, grinning.  
  
"Is that the best you can do? Come on, try again," I coaxed. Lucius, losing his head completely (not literally, people!), took another try at breaking my nose. Lucius, however, had apparently been spending too much time behind that fancy desk of his, and he was no match for my youthful strength. I shoved him backward, into some of Voldemort's other wizards, and, stupid fools that they were, they tripped over each other as they tried and to get up and wound up on the floor again.  
  
Unfortunately, some of them actually had a brain, and they began doing their best to murder me. I blocked several curses, and began backing up the stairs. They followed. I suddenly found myself at the apparition point, and I apparated away, leaving behind some extremely confused wizards. You see, only Voldemort's top-ranking officers knew about that particular weakness in the defenses, and I was one of the elite few.  
  
I was standing in Remus Lupin's living room, alone. I was not sure if I had succeeded in my quest to rid the world of Voldemort, and until I was certain that held top priority, beyond even finding Ginny.   
  
Destiny had made its choice, and now there was no turning back.  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

This is the third part of the Destiny series, and for yall real emotional people, I'd suggest grabbing a tissue. Got the tissues? Okay, now read the story, and after that would you please fill out that little box at the bottom of the page? I love reviews, you know.  
  
  
  
I paced around Lupin's living room, trying to decide my next move. Voldemort was not a fool, and he would not waste any time in coming after me. But I was relatively safe here, and I was exhausted. I sank onto the couch, deciding that a nap would be a very good idea. I was fairly certain that Remus still lived here, but if he wanted to curse a sleeping man, then so be it. I woke to the sound of Lupin's voice.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. I sat up and looked at him, trying to determine whether or not my personal quest for vengeance was to end here, at Remus' hands.  
  
"I don't know," I said softly.  
  
"Have they finally decided to come after us?" he snapped, and he sounded furious.  
  
"No. They haven't. But if you want, you can curse me now and be done with it. That's entirely up to you. I won't raise a hand to stop you." He hesitated, then began to pace, retracing my steps of only a few hours before.   
  
"Why'd you turn on us, Harry?" he asked, and there was a plea in his voice. A kind of despair, because he knew--or he thought he knew--where my loyalties really lay, and it was not with him. I started to answer his question, but he held up a hand to stop me.  
  
"That wasn't fair of me to ask you that. I would certainly not have held up as long as you did. You-Know-Who is very strong, I know that. But have you really returned to our side, or are you here at his orders?" I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. Because I didn't know how to answer him. True, I was against Voldemort, but I had sworn to answer only to myself, to not let foolish notions of chivalry and gallantry make me hesitant to do what had to be done.  
  
"I'm not with you, Moony. I will fight Voldemort-" he flinched at the sound of the name, "-but I'll do it my way. I've answered to Voldemort too long to do anything else."  
  
"All right," he agreed. "Maybe you have. Wait here a second, will you? I have something for you." He left the room, and when he returned, he was carrying a little box, which he handed to me. I opened it to find a small gold locket inside. And I recognized it. I looked up at him, and he nodded.  
  
"Yeah. That was Hermione's," he said, answering my unspoken question. I pulled the locket from the box and opened it. The picture inside was of me, Hermione, and Ron on our graduation day from Hogwarts. The three people inside looked at me with mild interest, and I snapped it shut. I couldn't do this. Not now. Not ever. I read the inscription on the front of it, unable or unwilling to stop myself.  
  
'To Thine Own Self Be True'  
  
No. I dropped the locket, and I couldn't stop the tears. Tears for a past I no longer wanted to remember; tears for a future I didn't have. I had given more than my life to Voldemort, because I knew now why I had surrendered so completely to Darkness. It had taken this long to realize it, but I honestly didn't remember those last few years before the wizarding world fell to Voldemort's irresistible power.  
  
And there was only one reason why, I knew that now. Someone had put a memory charm on me. The question was who. Voldemort was the obvious answer, but there was another answer, one that frightened me. The other answer was that I had done it to myself.   
  
I was powerful enough to do it, of that I was certain. It had taken two years, but the memory charm had to be wearing off. That was why I had suddenly begun to resist Voldemort.   
  
"What's wrong?" Moony questioned, and there was concern in his voice. "You look like you saw a ghost or something." He picked up the locket and studied the picture inside. "Well, maybe you did see a ghost of a sort," he admitted.  
  
"It's not that."  
  
"Then what it is?"  
  
"I can't tell you that." I truly couldn't. I knew if I tried to explain everything to him, I'd break down completely, and I didn't want that. He looked like he wanted to protest, but Ginny's timely arrival put that thought of his mind, at least for now.  
  
"Hi, Moony," she called.  
  
"Hello, Ginny," I said, and she whirled to face me, a look of complete surprise on her face.  
  
"Harry! What are you doing here?"  
  
"At the moment, not much."   
  
"Don't be obnoxious. Anyway, the rest of us should be showing up in a minute, so you can see everyone."  
  
"The rest?" I said, totally bewildered. I hadn't known there was that many wizards that still resisted Voldemort. On second thought, that might be a good thing. If I didn't know about it, Voldemort almost certainly didn't.  
  
"Yes. The rest. Um, although I think it might be better if they didn't see you right off. Some of them are going to hex first and ask questions later."  
  
"Yeah, I see your point. I'll be in the living room, just call me when you're ready." I collapsed onto the couch, feeling suddenly and inexplicably exhausted. I had so much I had to do, and no time to do it in. I wondered if it would be better if I just left now, because I had seen the hope in Ginny's eyes, and I didn't want to disappoint her again. But if I left, I would just be proving what Voldemort had always said, that I was too much of a coward to face the truth, and that made my decision for me. I would stay.  
  
"All right, they're ready," Ginny told me, looking a bit nervous. "But I'd still be on my guard, if I were you." I followed her into the other room, where ten or eleven witches and wizards were lounging on chairs. They instantly tensed when I entered the room, and everyone had their hands on their wands.  
  
"Now, don't do something you might regret later," Ginny warned the others, frowning at them severely. There was a long moment of silence, which was finally broken by a quiet voice.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius stared at me, pure disbelief in his eyes. "But you're. . .you're. . ." He couldn't finish his sentence, and I smiled faintly.  
  
"Never thought I'd see the day when you couldn't think of something to say, Padfoot." He just stared at me for another minute, then turned to Ginny and Remus.  
  
"If this is some kind of trick, you're in serious trouble," he threatened.   
  
"It's not," Ginny assured him. "And Harry's back of his own free will. He saved me from Voldemort."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," I drawled. "You're not safe yet, are you?"  
  
"Not exactly, but with you here I'm safer than I've been in years," she challenged.  
  
"Whoa, stop right there. Don't start that. I'm not the person you used to know. I can't ever be the Harry you knew."  
  
"Why not?" she pleaded, almost tearfully.  
  
"Oh geez, Ginny, don't do this to me. I don't have any more say in this than you do. This is just one of the things I have to do."  
  
"You're going back to him, aren't you?" The troubled, hurt sound of her voice almost broke me. I was close--too close--to forgetting everything I had to do and just staying here, to protect her. But I couldn't do that, no matter what. To stay would put her in danger. To leave would break her heart again. There would be no second chances.  
  
"I'm going back, but not the way you think. I will challenge him to a duel, winner take all. No matter who wins, I won't be coming back."  
  
"So you'll just leave again?" The pain in her voice almost killed me. But God help me, I didn't have any other choice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's that simple for you? You'll just leave? You'll just walk away from the only life you've ever known?" I refused to meet her eyes. I knew if I did, I couldn't leave, and I had to. I had to.  
  
"Yes. It's that simple." I apparated away before she could say anything else. I remembered the saying written on Hermione's locket.  
  
'To Thine Own Self Be True'  
  
Could I? Could I ever to be true to myself? Could I ever be true to the life I knew, to the life I treasured? The only truth I knew was that destiny could not be denied, and that would have to be enough.  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Default Chapter Title

  
  
  
  
  
  
"Harry?" Snape's voice was plainly incredulous. "What are you doing here? The master said you'd turned on us." I sighed, considering how to answer him. After leaving Ginny and Remus, I'd apparated straight to Voldemort's stronghold. I'd been extremely lucky in not getting caught yet, but getting to Voldemort would be easier said than done, and to do it I'd need help. Which was where my old Potions teacher came in.  
  
Severus Snape was one of Voldemort's most trusted servants, but I'd gotten the impression, several times, that his loyalties were not with the man he called master. I had berated myself for being three kinds of a fool for not telling Voldemort of my suspicions, but I was thankful now that I hadn't. Perhaps two years with the Dark Lord had not entirely erased my loyalty to the only life I'd ever known.   
  
"I'm against Voldemort," I said shortly. "I need your help. I could just put the Imperius Curse on you and go about my business, but I'd prefer you to help me of your own free will. You with me or against me?"  
  
"With you, naturally. But I still hate you, Potter."  
  
"I know, I know. You wouldn't be Snape if you didn't hate me. It's kind of reassuring that some things never change."  
  
"Yeah, well, this isn't exactly the time for a chat. What do you want?" I laughed softly.  
  
"Well, who would have thought that one of Voldemort's most trusted servants would be so eager to help his worst enemy? Will wonders ever cease. But now to more serious business. I need you to get Voldemort out here, preferably unarmed."  
  
"You'd attack an unarmed man? That's not the Harry Potter I knew."  
  
"Two years with Voldemort would change anyone," I said darkly, and he winced.   
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's certainly changed Weasley." He suddenly seemed to realize what he'd just said, and his expression was almost fearful. Not that I blamed him. Those years as a Death Eater had changed me beyond what even I would have believed possible, and for all he knew, I could pull out my wand and curse him on the spot.  
  
"I'll do what I can," he said, to cover the awkward silence. "But he doesn't usually go anywhere without his wand, so be ready."  
  
"Wait," I said quickly. An idea had suddenly occurred to me, and if I was really, really lucky, it might not get me killed. "What if I was your 'prisoner'?" Snape frowned as he considered the idea.  
  
"Might not be such a bad idea," he agreed. "But there's the little problem that if you're my 'prisoner', I'm gonna have to explain how I caught you."  
  
"Relatively easy," I said casually. "Stun me, and then call Voldemort. Take my wand with you as proof, then, when you come back, just bring my wand with you."  
  
"Man, you're good at this," he said admiringly. I grinned.  
  
"What can I say? I'm gifted. But you better hurry. And for heaven's sakes, don't get Lucius Malfoy involved in this, if you can help it. He's probably not feeling very happy with me, since I gave him that punch on the jaw."  
  
"You're the one that put that awful bruise on his jaw?" Severus laughed. "Oh, too bad I wasn't here when that happened. I would've loved watching."  
  
"All right, it was a bit more fun than it should have been," I admitted, "but we ought to get this done. Hurry up, will you?"  
  
"Just don't murder me for this one later, okay?" He didn't wait for my answer, but I heard a bit of regret in his voice as he said the spell. "Stupefy!" It was the last thing I remembered before darkness closed in on me . . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
"Ennervate," snarled a harsh voice, and I opened my eyes. I immediately wished I hadn't. Tom Riddle--better known as Lord Voldemort--was leaning over me, and his expression was anything but pleasant. I propped myself up on my elbows and surveyed him for a long moment without speaking. Voldemort finally broke the silence.  
  
"So," he said, pacing back and forth in front of me. I still didn't make a move to get to my feet. "So," he repeated, looking so much like Uncle Vernon that I almost burst out laughing.  
  
"So what?" I quipped.  
  
"So what?" he growled, sounding utterly furious. "Here you are, Potter, in my castle, under my control, and you can ask 'so what'?"  
  
"Yeah, that about covers it," I said coolly. I admit it was a stupid move to deliberately provoke him like that, but a kind of recklessness had come over me, and I no longer cared what he could do to me. It didn't matter. I'd made my choice, and since there was no going back, why not have fun in the meantime? The look on Voldemort's face was priceless, after all, and I knew that he was used to having people begging for mercy, not derisively sneering at him the way I was.  
  
"On your feet," he ordered.   
  
"Why? Don't you believe in kicking a man when he's down?" He glared at me, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and I got to my feet slowly.  
  
"Well, apparently the mighty Voldemort does have some principles," I mused. "And there I was thinking you were entirely ruthless. Stupid me." He hit me. He was surprisingly strong, and I was entirely taken by surprise. I had expected him to curse me, but I had never expected him to be that openly furious. I had never expected . . . I didn't know what I had expected, but whatever it was, it hadn't been that.   
"So, Potter, will you underestimate our master now?" sneered a voice from behind me. I whirled around to see Snape standing there. Despite his harsh words, I could see concern in his eyes, and I nodded slightly, to let him know that I was okay. At least for now. He was holding my wand, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Everything was going according to plan.  
  
"Normally I would not do this so quickly. Or easily. But I admire your courage, Harry, so I'll do this now." I turned to face Voldemort. His wand was pointing at me, and I instantly understood what he was about to do. Snape knew as well; a slight expression of panic crossed his face. I snatched my wand from Snape's hand and said the two words that changed my life forever.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" There was a brillant flash of green light, and that was all I needed to see. I heard someone say a spell, and I fell into merciful blackness.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Harry!" I opened my eyes, then closed them again as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I tried to sort through all that had happened the last few days, but just thinking made my head hurt, so I stopped trying to figure out what had happened to me. I'd find out soon enough.  
  
"Harry?" It was a question this time, and I recognized the voice as Lupin's.  
  
"Moony?" I mumbled, trying to sit up.   
  
"Oh, if you must," Sirius grumbled, and helped me sit up. I was hurting in places I didn't even know could hurt, but I desperately needed to know what had happened, and I told them that.  
  
"Are you always this stubborn, Potter?" Severus Snape walked over to the bed, wearing his usual (and very annoying) smirk.  
  
"Yes," I retorted.  
  
"Well, did you have a death wish when you last encountered Voldemort?"  
  
"Not in particular."  
  
"Then you certainly came close," he observed. "Too close." There was a moment of silence, and I wondered how close to dying I'd really been. But in a way, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Or at least needed to.  
  
"You defeated Voldemort," Snape informed me. "Lucius Malfoy, the devious scum, hit you with a curse just after his master's defeat. Lupin and Sirius and Ginny showed up right after that with the rest of the resistance, and we managed to defeat them and keep you in one piece. You've been unconscious for two days. Ginny's been extremely worried. Lupin and I finally convinced her to get some sleep a few hours ago; she's still asleep. I daresay she'll be happy to see you when she wakes up, though."  
  
"Yeah, she probably will be. So. . . Voldemort's really gone?"  
  
"Yep. Feels weird, doesn't it?" Sirius sighed. "Voldemort's supporters are all in Azkaban, and maybe we can start rebuilding the world Voldemort wrecked."  
  
"Maybe. Listen, guys, I'm gonna take a nap, okay?"  
  
"Yes, of course, Harry," Remus said contritely. "We'll go, to let you have some peace." He dragged Snape and Sirus out the door, leaving me alone in the silent room.   
  
So Voldemort was really gone. The idea was unbelievable to me. I had lived my life in fear of that monster, and I couldn't get used to the fact that I would never have to worry about him anymore. I didn't think I'd ever really let go of the fear that Voldemort had forever instilled in me, just like I couldn't let go of the pain that Ron had turned to the Darkness we'd fought for so long.  
  
I, too, had surrendered to Voldemort, but I had returned to the Light Side, and managed to forever conquer the man who haunted my nightmares. But would destiny be denied? Or would I spend my entire life looking over my shoulder for the demons of my past? Could I rebuild my shattered life, or would my hatred for the Darkness that had almost conquered me drive me to the brink of insanity, as it had so many others? Could I forgive myself for not being there when my friends needed me the most?   
  
So many questions, so few answers. But with my friends beside me, I could face whatever destiny held in store for me.   
  
A life forever altered. A destiny forever changed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Default Chapter Title

  
  
  
  
"Just call us if you need us, Mr. Potter," one of the Azkaban guards said, looking at me as though I was insane or something. Which, in his eyes, I probably was. Ronald Weasley was a convicted Death Eater; he'd been given a life sentence in Azkaban.  
  
It had been almost a year since I had conquered the monster that even now haunted my nightmares; a year that Ron had spent in this place. But being the Minster of Magic had it's advantages. And I had to power, now, to let him out. I only wished that I could dispel the doubts that filled me with fear.  
  
Being Minster of Magic was not what I had wanted, I'd had enough of being the hero. And I understood why Albus Dumbledore had refused to leave the tranquillity of Hogwarts for the busy offices of the Ministry. It was overwhelming, and some days I wished I could simply disappear. Technically, I could: an advanced Transfiguration spell could make me into someone else entirely, but I could never run from my past without leaving the life we'd fought for behind, and I would never--could never--do that.  
  
Ron's sudden appearance in the doorway was enough to take my mind off my troubled thoughts, at least for now. I stood up quickly, and for once I was grateful that those years with Voldemort had taught me to never show weakness. It was all I could do to not start yelling at the guard that roughly shoved him through the door.  
  
"Hey, when you're done, call, okay?" I nodded in response to the guard's question, and watched with relief as he disappeared back out the door.  
  
"Ron?" I said it softly, and even I could hear the faint waver in my voice.  
  
"Hey, Harry. Heard you're Minister of Magic now, eh?" He sat down in the chair across from me, and for a moment I dared to hope that with Voldemort gone, Ron could once again be the boy who'd been my best friend since I was eleven years old.   
  
"You on a routine prison check?" he asked casually. "Or am I a special case? You know, one of Voldemort's so-called 'inner circle'?"  
  
"No, I'm not. I'm here to let you out, if you'll let me."  
  
"You're the one who has to let me, Potter." The cold, disdainful way he said my name suddenly reminded me of Draco Malfoy, and I hated it. I hated it for what Voldemort had done to him, for what he'd let Voldemort do to him. Logic told me that even I had surrendered to the Dark Side, but that didn't matter to me. Somehow, I could not reconcile my image of the man sitting across from me with the boy he'd been before Voldemort came between us.  
  
"Why does it have to be like this?" I demanded. "What happened to you, Ron?"  
  
"Voldemort," he said casually. "He showed me a power I couldn't turn my back on, even for you."  
  
"Am I that easy to turn on? Is it my fault, for being so trusting?" I heard his quick intake of breath, and I knew I'd gotten through to him. For the first time, our eyes met, and he looked away first. There was a long silence. He finally broke it.  
  
"No. You're not that easy to turn on. It wasn't your fault that I went to Voldemort. It was my fault, I guess. He just made it so easy, you know." He sounded a bit shocked by how easy it had really been for him.  
  
"And then, when I heard that you'd gone over to Voldemort's side too, I knew the Light Side couldn't win. And what was to be gained by resisting him?"  
  
"Innocent lives," I whispered, and I knew he too was remembering our third year, when Peter Pettigrew had asked the same question, and Sirius Black had been the one to answer him then. And suddenly, it seemed so obvious.   
  
Hermione, so like Lily, was gone. Her long-time boyfriend, Dean Thomas, was gone as well.  
  
Neville, just like Moony, blamed himself for all that had happened, although in truth it was not at all his fault.  
  
And I, like Padfoot, had paid for a crime I had not committed. And maybe I'm just a cynic, maybe all the things that I've been through have entirely erased my belief in human nature, but I found it so incredibly ironic that while everyone said I was exactly like my father, I had given in to Voldemort, and almost lost all that my parents had died fighting for.  
  
And Ron, like Wormtail, had betrayed us all. The absolute irony of the situation suddenly struck me as hilarious, and I laughed bitterly. Ron stared at me for a moment in silence, and when he spoke, he sounded exactly like the cold, unfeeling voice that I, no matter how much I wanted to, could never forget.  
  
"You. Are. Crazy."  
  
"Absolutely," I agreed. "Of course, if you'd seen all the things I have, I bet you wouldn't be exactly normal either. Besides," I added darkly, "better crazy than dead, right?"  
  
"Maybe. Maybe not."  
  
"What?" I sneered. "Is the unbeatable Sir Weasley getting cold feet? Are you scared, Weasley?"  
  
"Of you? Never."  
  
"Don't try to be a smart aleck. Actually, don't try to be smart at all. You don't pretend well." I saw a flicker of surprise and vague amusement in his eyes, but when he spoke, it was in that same emotionless voice.  
  
"Well, if you're letting me out, be about it. If you're not, don't."  
  
"As you wish," I snickered. I rose from my chair and headed for the door. I glanced back at him, and the sight almost broke my heart. I hated having to do this to him, but I had no other choice. I motioned for the guard, and left the room.  
  
"You'll regret this, Potter!" Ron yelled after me.   
  
"I already do," I said softly, and then turned my back on the man who used to be my best friend.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
